The sun peeked out from behind the Zujiuchu Mountains, warming his face as he pondered his current predicament. When he signed up for the guard's position, he did so only in expectation of easy work and half-decent pay. He wouldn't have to linger in the decrepit slums with their gas and horrid conditions. All he had to do was guard a stupid gate, then move on to some walls or another place that needed a guard to stand around, looking impressive. That was it! But for some reason, even though Bence tried to look as uninterested as possible, a local merchant whined about a rat infestation near the graveyard and expected HIM to deal with it. Refusing a merchant's request often led to a complaint from his boss, so he couldn't outright refuse. 

This unusual and cruel request of doing his job forced him away from his cozy leaning post to the streets to hunt rats. The idea of it wasn't the worst. He'd faced rats, bears, and particularly scary honey badgers, all without dying. The issue lay not in the task but in the fact that he wanted to nap, not work. After a short amount of jumbling around, pretending to be investigating, an idea popped into his head. 

Why should he go through all this effort when there were plenty of idiotic adventurers to help? 

Most adventurers were the gullible, naive type, eager to look for adventure or a fight, even when there was none. They always wanted to be heroes or do great deeds. All he had to do was ask nicely and promise a silver piece or two in exchange. If he targeted a newbie adventurer, they were bound to accept, even if a single silver piece was barely a fraction of his paycheck. He smiled at the idea and walked down the street in search of some gullible fool or honey-hearted novice to sway. 

Isn't that what heroes were for? To do the work he didn't want to do?

Siris counted the coins in his possession in dismay. No matter how many times he did so, the fact the fare to make a trip from Onnen to Iria had left his funds severely lacking. Karith was an excellent place for obtaining reagents and materials of the quality necessary for crafting arcane implements, yet none of them were purchasable below three digits. As an adept he had long removed himself from secular affairs, but one must learn to move with the current than resist the flow. In short, he must find an acceptable way of earning money to properly buy what he sought without having Shiloh cover for him. His actions at the auction still remained vividly fresh in her mind, and more than once Siris was met by her glowering gaze when he mentioned making what he thought were simple purchases.

He had tried his best to not impose, but jade of such a grade was hard to come by for engraved protective charms. As Dala had shown enthusiasm for flying swords, giving her a jade token which could protect against harm surely would put Shiloh's mind at ease. Heaving a sigh, he dithered on the streets as he thought of what to do. The best solution would be to take on some odd jobs and accumulate wealth gradually as Shiloh had. She had told him bluntly that he wasn't suitable for mercenary work or as an armed escort, and unfortunately the breadth of his expertise meant his range of options above minor errands was rather slim. Still, there was no shame in taking honest work. There was no such thing as work which was too base or petty. His concern and worry were plain to see as he wrestled with revisiting the market district a third time with hopes that he might be fortunate enough to find something he could buy within his limited budget. 

There were almost too many to pick from. He could try one of the newer guards… no…. that would be stupid. A newer guard was likely to tattle the moment he realized he'd been used. His eyes glanced at a passing group of travelers. He could tell by their worn clothes, the weary look in their eyes, and the calm words of practical matters that these were more experienced adventurers. If Bence dared to pay them only silver, they would beat him sore. He could handle a fight, but the whole point was to avoid work, not encourage it. As he searched for some gullible fool, his eyes spotted a young man with dark brown hair in a ponytail. Bence couldn't exactly make out what the young man was carrying, but he could get the gist that the man knew some magic. 

That would have been fine and dandy, yet he needed a fool. Not a magician. The thing that truly showed he was a suitable candidate was that curious, wide-eyed innocence in his eyes. Something about the way he looked from right to left, gazing at strangers with an unseen expectation, was what keyed Bence into knowing this would be a perfect target. So, he approached the stranger. 

"Hey. You. Want to make silver and be a hero or whatever?" Bence asked with a sigh, "I got a job for you. The locals have been bothered by some rats who've been tearing up their food sources and causing a real problem. Poor children are fleeing the sight of these monstrous rats. Even dogs and cats. I'd do it myself but…..um…. I'm busy. I'll give you two silver coins for the job done. Just think…. you'll be a hero…." 

He did his best to sweeten the idea of being a hero, but it was nearly impossible for him to muster such saccharine sweetness in his voice. Instead, his voice was mildly unenthusiastic with hints of annoyance and the distinct impression that he wanted to go back to bed. Acting had never been his strong suit. Though if he could barely think of what his strong suits were outside of doing absolutely nothing at all. 

They there are two kinds of poeple: those who seek opportunities and those whom opportunities find. Opportunity had found him this time, as a young man approached Siris with a request. His description of what was troubling him was oddly presented, but perhaps this was due to exasperation and a loss at what to do. Pests plaguing crops and stored goods was a common problem no matter what day or age, so he accepted the information without question. His betters did say that noble deeds need not be grand in scale to make a difference. With a thoughtful look he put a hand to his mouth. "How terrible… I understand, I'll spare no effort to remove them immediately." Without asking for additional information, he took out an ornate censer and several paper talismans bearing strange symbols. Using the water mirror would be ineffective for locating more than one target, thus he opted for a geomancy ritual instead.  

Lighting the censer, he sprinkled some incense and fanned the flames until wisps snaked out from the vessel. Then he took the talismans and began to chant before burning them in the lit censer emitting fragrant smoke. "Spirits of the land, I beseech you–grant me knowledge of this pestilence that plagues these people and where their warrens lie. Lend me your eyes in guidance on their whereabouts that which I may swiftly bind and purge evil…" This process took several minutes as he performed the bizarre ritual out in the open on the side of the street. It was unclear how this would solve the issue of a rodent infestation, if at all–but he appeared to be taking this very seriously. Too seriously, perhaps.

For a moment, Bence was confused by the man's sudden ritual. He had done so, in the open side of the street, pulling out papers and some sort of censer. For a moment, he wondered if he should back away slowly and pretend not to know the man. But instead, his curiosity got the better of him. He sat on a nearby wooden crate and lounged on it, using his arms as a pillow to prop up his head. He watched silently as the man began speaking to nobody, saying something about spirits or whatever. At the very least the stranger was enthusiastic. Whether his enthusiasm alone was enough to do the job or not, remained to be seen. 

Bence let out a soft yawn. Either way, the task wasn't his problem anymore. All he had to do was just supervise to make sure things were happening. Even if the rats remained, at least he'd be able to claim that he was trying to use smoke or fire to smell them out or something. Long as it looked like he was doing work, that's all that mattered. The captain of the guards only really cared when the upperclass made complaints anyway. He'd be more likely to ignore a merchant if Bence at least claimed he did something about the situation. Bence yawned and prepared himself for a nap. 

As the smoke cleared and the words were uttered, through means occult and arcane Siris received insight. The greatest convergence of damp and dark energies pointed in the direction of the graveyard, which he would have learned had he taken the time to ask. As the young guard was about to drift off to sleep, he was roused awake by Siris. "I've found them–come, we must make haste! Pests such as these thrive in places where yin energies are strongest as it is the perfect grounds for them to breed." Pest infestations if left unchecked could spiral into worse problems, and there was no time to lose. Removing a small problem now would prevent worse ones further down the line. The locations revealed to him through the ritual were imprinted in his memory as he swiftly drew his sword and jumped onto the flat side of its blade, planting his feet. 

With a free hand, Siris pulled Bence along as the levitating sword began speeding towards the destination he had in mind. This sort of unintentional behavior was exactly why he had been scolded so harshly by Shiloh whenever he took passengers whilst flying. To him controlling the flying sword was no different from standing atop a boat with a sail, and there was no concern over injuries should he become separated from it. As for his passengers however…that portion slipped his mind.

Bence noticed Siris' enthusiastic declarations. He couldn't care less. The adventurer or whatever he was would go out and solve his problem while he got a nice cozy nap.

"Good for you," Bence yawned. 

His tired eyes popped open as he felt Siris yank him by his shirt with a surprising strength. He was dragged off the crate and straight into the air as though he weighed nothing at all. Was this man flying? Bence's jaw dropped as he saw the dropping distance between him and the ground. His gobsmacked face looked at Siris, startled to see the man flying on a gods-damned sword. Why the hell was he on a sword?! They zipped over roofs and through small alleyways of the city as they rose higher into the sky. Bence helplessly grasped onto Siris' hand, the only thing stopping him from falling to an unpleasant end. 

Such a thing he could have normally handled, or so he would claim later, if not for the other obstacles. Siris had the good fortune of being able to control the sword and the direction they flew. Bence had no such fortune. First, he was slammed into a gaggle of geese whose feathers got into his mouth. Then, when they were higher, his face was slammed into a nearby sign for a bakery. Then, his feet were dragged on roof tiles, and his body was splashed with water from a fountain a fancy noble put in. Eventually, they were in the alleyway where the nest of rats lingered. When the poor Bence was finally put back on the ground, he was clinging to the dirt, silently thanking the deities that he was alive and not a squished pancake. A grunt of irritation and leftover fear escaped his voice as he faced Siris, still a bit wet from the water fountain sprays he was dragged through. He leaned in close and looked Siris in the eyes.

"Next time…warn me," Bence muttered grumpily. 

He sighed, backed off, and looked around.

"Where the hell did you bring us to?"

In no time at all they arrived where the first of the warrens Siris has divined were located. He turned to see the sorry state of his passenger and a wave of remorse swept over him. He had done it again, carelessly bringing someone along while forgetting how different adepts and the uninitiated were. "Oh–I'm terribly sorry!" He was about to use a cantrip to tidy the poor man up but stopped himself lest he make the situation worse. To answer his question, Siris began to explain. "We have arrived at the nearest location where foul and stagnant air settles, the ideal place for agents of pestilence to breed and evil energies to gather. Typical environments include naturally occurring geography where air currents flow downward and gather humidity with obscured or little sunlight, alleys or nooks in overcrowded cities, or perpetually overcast and rainy biomes such as fens and marshes. Damp and dark corners provide the perfect places for insects to hide which in turn draw in other carriers of sickness and contagion. The best course of action would be to clear away overhangs that cast shadows to allow natural light and aerate the location by widening the footpaths so sunlight can touch the ground." 

Taking a pause in his lengthy speech, he faced the dimly lit alley flanked by old buildings on both sides. "However if such measures would take too long, one can simply uproot the immediate problem at its source." Making a sign with his right hand, the air around them began to rapidly shift as Siris began to summon a dust devil at the mouth of an inconspicuous hole near the bottom of a wall of one of the aged buildings. He may have focused his studies on the movements of the celestial spheres, but a spell caster was still a spell caster–and masters of the arcane used magic to solve their problems. By now there was a rapidly growing miniature tornado forming in the middle of the narrow alleyway that was sucking in all the dust and loose debris lying unsecured in the immediate area. While much less volatile than a fireball, was he intending to drag the rats out of their hiding hole using the power of rotational suction?!

He was beginning to regret his decisions. Now the stranger was rambling off about geography and air flows and something about contagion? He had no idea. All he knew was the man must have liked the sound of his voice, otherwise he wouldn't be using it so much. Bence just tried to focus on ringing out his shirt from all the water and removing the goose feathers while the man rambled on. He wasn't paying any particular attention to whatever Siris was saying….. until the sound of whistling and blowing air grew louder. He stopped for a moment and slowly turned his head towards Siris and the rathole. 

"For the love of-" 

A small box whacked him upside the head as the miniature tornado began spinning and spinning. Was this man insane? At this rate he'd get the rats just by causing the buildings to collapse. Not only would he get fired, he'd also get crushed! Bence attempted to yank Siris back by the collar of his shirt, hoping to end whatever magic he was using. He looked over at Siris with a deep frown.

"Stop! Are you insane?!" Bence shouted, "That kind of wind could blow the buildings down!" 

He sighed, releasing Siris' collar. In his pocket was a small bit of poison dust he normally used for pest control in his quarters, and pranking the other guards' meals when they pissed him off. He waited until things were still and placed a small portion of the dust near the hole in the wall, right in the entrance. He slowly closed up the tiny bag and looked over at the crazy wizard he stupidly hired on. 

"Now, can you use your wind magic to GENTLY push the poison into the hole?" Bence asked. "Just enough to get the dust in the air where the rats can breathe it in." 

As the dust devil was gaining momentum, his focus was interrupted by a yank from behind. He turned to ask what was the matter when a glaring expression not wholly unfamiliar to him stared back. "Ah…" He stopped his spell and the winds died down, debris and dust falling back to where they had been. Siris stood to the side sheepishly as Bence laid down a small portion of poison-laced dust in front of the rat warren and instructed him to send it inside. Using as little magic as possible, he sent a small puff of wind to whisk the dust into the hole. To ensure none was left outside, he directed the small air current to rotate like a drill, allowing the dust to travel further down the rodent-sized passage. Particles would stick to the sides of the tunnel on the way downwards and any that didn't adhere to the tunnel walls would continue until the force of the air ran out.

"It is done." Siris replied in an apologetic tone. Though he feared more complaints and grumbling from his impromptu employer, he had no choice but to mention there were a few more places nearby which needed the same treatment. He couldn't say with certainty that the rats were dead, but if this was enough to be seen as satisfactory, then so be it. He would not use his flying sword this time, having seen the result of the first flight. Instead he led the way to where the following locations were before the guardsman did his part.